Hope yet
by errance.ivrogne
Summary: In a universe where Obi-Wan is born a year before the Great Purge, how will he influence the lives of Luke, Leia and their companions? Ultimately it's just Obi-Wan in the sequel trilogy when he isn't an old man.
1. Smoke over Coruscant

_A/N: In this story, Qui-Gon never took on another apprentice after Xanatos until he discovered Anakin. He won the duel with Darth Maul and took the place of Obi-Wan as Anakin's master in all the adventures that followed._

Angry red fires razed across the Coruscanti skyline amidst plumes of greasy black smoke as the cruel massacre of the Jedi screamed silently into the night. Across the Galactic City, men, women and children rushed to the rails of their homes, craning their heads to witness the destruction of their thousand-year protectors in an act that would sit in the souls of Coruscanti citizens for the rest of their lives. Senator Organa frantically piloted his ship towards the landing pad stretched out from one of the temple entrances. The landing was rough, shaking the cockpit. Regardless, the senator jumped out immediately, about to make his worried way into the sanctum, to help, to fight, anything. Before he could move further than a few steps from his craft, however, the doors at the end of the landing pad slid open and a small figure tumbled out. From the looks of it, the stranger could not be a Jedi; at least not a grown one. A youngling he must have been, for he looked barely into his teens.

The boy looked up and saw the senator. His face was ashen, his eyes filled with horrors Organa could not imagine. The boy stumbled, running toward him, as though the Sith themselves were upon his heels. Clutched to his chest, the senator could see was a bundle, protected in his cradle of arms like a precious treasure, to be kept safe from the slaughter going on within what was once a safe haven for the Jedi.

Before the youngling could reach the Aldaaranian man, however, he was felled by a single laster blast from the blaster clutched in the hand of a clone trooper amongst ten which had arrived through the open door. Organa saw the bundle fall from the boy's lifeless fingers and only the senator's unexpectedly fast reflexes stopped it from hitting the ground beside his protector. As soon as his fingers closed about the mass, it let out one long, loud wail.

Organa nearly dropped it in surprise.

For what he had thought might have been some Jedi artefact the boy had felt the need to protect turned out to be a small boy, barely a year of age, wrapped in rough cloth hastily pulled from a crèche crib. Instinctively, Organa clutched his new charge closer to his chest; surely the clone troopers would not murder an innocent babe?

But his gaze fell to the cooling body of the felled youngling, lifeless eyes closed in calm acceptance of his death. _No, there would be no mercy found in the clones' actions. _In front of him, the troopers' weapons wavered, pointed at Organa but nor firing; orders for the execution of all force sensitives in the Temple warring with the protection of the senator.

Sensing his chance, Organa made a quick decision; he spun and ran, jumping into the cockpit with the precious child in his hands, just as Order 66 re-established itself as the troopers' primary directive. Red bolts flashed as Organa flipped switches one handed, powering up the engines as fast as he could. A blast hit its target and once again rocked the small shuttle, just as the senator took control of the vessel and took off, balancing the babe in his lap; the boy had been silent ever since his first mourning scream, instead lying still in his place, quiet as the grave. It would have been worrying, had Organa the luxury of time to worry about him.

Instead, the man tightened his grip on the steering grip, desperately trying to avoid the multitude of blaster bolts following their departure. Within ten harrowing seconds which seemed to stretch into eternity for the senator, they were out of range of the troopers' fire-power.

Without looking back, Senator Bail Organa clutched the last Jedi youngling to him and set the course for the asteroid Polis Massa.

x-X-X-X-x

Organa would never forget the looks on Qui-Gon and Yoda's faces when he revealed that he'd rescued a youngling from the Temple purge. The small green man had looked as relieved as the senator had ever seen him, while the taller human had taken the child almost with reverence, gently cradling him and staring down at the last remnant of his home. He'd sat down heavily, the babe smiling in his sleep and curling into the Jedi master's embrace.

"Know his name, do you?" The grand-master had asked the senator quietly. Organa shook his head, pacing up and down the sterile waiting room beside Padme's birthing chamber.

"The boy carrying him did not- did not survive to tell me." Silence settled for a minute before a loud cry from the birthing chamber made Qui-Gon stand immediately, hand the sleeping child over to the startled senator -causing the babe to scrunch up his face in sleep as though he could sense the older Jedi moving away- and rush to Padme's side.

Organa was not present for what happened inside the chamber, though he saw Qui-Gon bending over the woman through the glass, holding each child as the medi-droid handed them to him and presenting them to the mother. It could not have been longer than 15 minutes before Padme slumped. The senator barely resisted rushing in himself; the two had become fast friends since Palpatine had been elected Supreme Chancellor.

Qui-Gon exited the chamber, ashen faced, walking past the equally stricken senator and to Yoda. The two Jedi conversed for a moment, before the taller bowed and removed himself from the room. _Probably to meditate his attachment away_, Organa thought snidely. He immediately felt guilty; just because it wasn't the Jedi way, doesn't diminish the pain Padme's death had caused Qui-Gon.

During his contemplation, Yoda had waddled up to the senator and rapped his gimer stick smartly against his shin.

"Meet with Qui-Gon when he has meditated, we will. Much to discuss we have."

Senator Organa looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms. _Yeah, you can say that again_.

x-X-X-X-x

"I will take the girl. My wife and I have always talked about adopting a baby girl." Said Organa, already attached to the idea of raising his friend's daughter; Leia would want for nothing under his and Breha's care.

Qui-Gon nodded. "And I will take the boy, Luke, to his family on Tatooine. He will be safe there. I will go too, to watch over him."

"Take the youngling, you will also." Yoda stated calmly. Qui-Gon stared at the elderly Jedi for a moment before shaking his head forefully.

"Master, I cannot- I intend to look after Luke-"

"Intend to do so, you do not. Intend to watch over him, not look _after_ him. Danger he will be in anywhere else. Training he needs. Keep you occupied he will, heal you he will."

"Master, I beg you, reconsider. Perhaps…Bail?"

Organa shook his head. "You know I can't give him the training he needs, old friend. He is the last remnant of _your_ religion, Qui-Gon, you _must_ teach him, if only so your teachings are not lost when you…"

"Die?" He laughed, but sobered quickly. "I don't know…after Xanados, after _Anakin_ I do not know if I don't do more harm than good to these children." A sharp rap from the gimer stick across the back of his head stopped him reminiscing.

"To Tatooine you will take young Skywalker and watch over him from afar you will. But also will you take the youngling, teach him. No darkness do you hold in yourself Qui-Gon, only your previous padawans did."

"…Very well," Qui-Gon sighed, exhausted, "What should be his name? I assume none of us know his real name?" Two heads shook in unison.

"Name him too, you shall. Now, go we must, too long we have delayed already."

"Where will you go, Master?" Yoda's eyes gained a far off look.

"To Dagobah, I will go. Immerse myself in the force, I must, seek enlightenment for the future." He placed a three fingered hand on Qui-Gon's. "See you again, I do not think I shall. May the force be with you." The taller Jedi returned the goodbye with a bow and watched Yoda's hoverchair leave the room, soon to depart from Polis Massa.

Organa stood too, sticking out a hand for the remaining Jedi to shake. "Do not worry, I will take care of Leia; she will be in safe hands."

His friend smiled. "I never doubted it. Goodbye, Bail, may the force be with you."

And he too, left the room, bound for home with his new daughter in his arms, leaving Qui-Gon to contemplate how his life had changed so drastically in so few hours.

x-X-X-X-x

Locking the ship into auto-navigation, Qui-Gon wandered into the back to check on his charges. He looked down at the medi-crib, one holding young Luke Skywalker, the other the rescued youngling. Qui-Gon studied him. Fine ginger hair decorated a pale skinned head, eyes closed in sleep, fists on his pillow. He probably hadn't been at the temple long; children were rarely given to the Jedi at less than one year of age and this boy couldn't have been much older. If the archives had survived Qui-Gon would have done his best to find and return the boy to his family, but like this he was one lost babe in the galaxy, with no known home or family. Sighing, the tall Jedi sat beside the boy's crib and thought of a name to give him. After all, he couldn't keep thinking of the future-Jedi as a babe all the time; it was insulting.

In all his years serving as a negotiator and Jedi for the council he'd encountered many cultures; some common like the Hutts, some uncommon like the Mrlssi. Exotic sounding name after exotic sounding name floated through his head, but in the end it always came back to the humans and eventually to a little backwater planet he'd crashed on on his return trip from a civil war dispute. The people there had been kind, hospitable and had given him lodgings and food, tended to his injuries and fixed up his ship as best they could. He remembered the kind husband of the woman who had found him.

Qui-Gon Jinn smiled down at the boy in the crib. "Hello, Obi-Wan."


	2. Time carries on and on

_A/N: skipping about a bit this chapter; just wanted to show snippets of Obi-Wan's childhood. I'll be settling into a more steady narrative form when we get to the events of Episode IV._

The hardest Jedi lesson Obi-Wan learnt was the rule on attachments. On one blistering hot day -like there was any other weather, Obi-Wan thought darkly- Qui-Gon had taken the youth aside and had explained; a Jedi cannot love. Because maybe not immediately, but one day, he would be forced to choose between his love and his duty. One decision would result in pain, the other in chaos. It was easier just to cut the entire problem out of their lives. And Obi-Wan, in all his 12 year old wisdom, had nodded, thinking it was a very simple concept to understand.

But concepts never translated directly into reality, at least not at first. For barely a couple of months afterwards, Obi-Wan and his mentor were sitting in their hut in the desert waste eating a meal.

Qui-Gon glanced at his apprentice, who was hungrily devouring his dinner. Obi-Wan caught the reprimand in his glance and slowed his food consumption, sitting straighter, transforming from a tired boy into a polite, well-learned padawan. Smiling, the master nodded at his padawan approvingly.

"Well, Obi-Wan, how did your meditation session go today?" He inquired. By making the boy meditate outside in the sun, he would build up a resistance against the harsh sun, something his freckled skin hadn't been born with. For the first seven years of his life, he had burnt terribly as soon as he spent longer than ten minutes out of doors. Now he could wander about the desert landscape for hours without his now-tanned skin blistering or peeling.

Obi-Wan swallowed hastily. "It was great, master! Like you said, there _is_ life here. I could feel the force presence of the birds above my head and the lizards in the dunes."

His master frowned. "And me?"

"You, master?"

"I was close to you during the entire exercise, Obi-Wan. You should not be caught up in small details to forgo the threat larger presences could pose to you!" He said angrily.

"But father-" Obi-Wan's mouth snapped shut in shock. He froze as his master stared at him. Slowly, Qui-Gon rose from where he'd been seated cross-legged and made his way silently past his apprentice, who was now staring down at the floor ashamedly. He paused at their open doorway, looking out at the golden desert dunes. Without turning to look at Obi-Wan, he spoke.

"I am _not_ your father, Obi-Wan. You are not my son. You are my apprentice and that is all. You would do well to remember that." He heard a small 'Yes, master' from behind him and the shuffle of small feet as the boy escaped to his room away from the stifling silence that had settled after his master's declaration. Qui-Gon sighed and whispered forlornly to the empty room.

"Attachment, Obi-Wan, will only bring you pain, so very much pain."

x-X-X-X-x

When Obi-Wan made his first light-sabre at age 13, Qui-Gon's only regret was that they had to use a synth-crystal instead of the natural ones found in Ilum Caves. While it would suit their purpose, the elder Jedi always thought it undermined the way of the Jedi somewhat, especially since the reputation the crystals had begotten from their major use in Sith weaponry. But in these times of danger, exiled Jedi couldn't be choosers.

So a trip to Mos Espa and one battered, barely competent geological compressor later they had a light-sabre worthy crystal to employ. Obi-Wan had locked himself away in his room for three days, carefully polished metal scraps and blue synth-crystal coming together through calm but wilful manipulation of the force.

When he'd finally emerged, hungry and dirty but satisfied, the padawan had a slightly dingy new light-sabre clutched in his hand.

Qui-Gon couldn't help smiling proudly at his charge.

x-X-X-X-x

It was when Obi-Wan turned 15 that the elderly Jedi began worrying about the future; even though Force-sensitives were known to have a longer life-span than the majority of their species, he could feel every one of his 87* years pressing down on his shoulders like a bag of rocks. His hair was almost entirely white now, a fact Obi-Wan liked to tease him about quite frequently. Which was another worrying thing; Qui-Gon had wanted there to be little to no distraction from Obi-Wan's studies, so the youngling hadn't exactly interacted with many people. Living beyond the sand dunes, not many people passed by to talk to, and Qui-Gon's sparse trips to keep an eye on Luke Skywalker were always performed solo. Only during special occasions such as finding the materials for his synth-crystal did Obi-Wan accompany his master.

_Well this might be a problem_. Qui-Gon mused during meditation one day. _When I die Obi-Wan should not be thrust into a world such as this with so little instruction. And he'll have to take over protecting Luke for me; he hasn't even met him_.

Immersed in his thoughts, Qui-Gon barely heard a loud shout from his padawan drifting into the living room from outside.

"Master!" The shout came again, finally pulling the Jedi from his ponderings. He rose, dusting his robes off and moved to the doorway, looking out. He furrowed his brows at the sight that greeted him.

Approaching the small mud and brick house belonging to the two exiled Jedi were three figures, moving staggering through the wavering heat. Solidifying as they neared them, he made out the tunic-clad form of his apprentice at the front. As he realised who the two boys behind him were, Qui-Gon's expression turned thunderstruck.

Obi-Wan slowed as he took in his master's expression. He stopped a few feet before him, bowing deeply to him as his entourage stopped behind him, slightly bewildered.

"Ben," Came Qui-Gon's icy tone, "explain." Obi-Wan gulped, and hastily rushed to explain.

"Um, th- this is Luke, a- and Windy, master, they were near Beggar's Canyon…they were going to get eaten by a kryat dragon!" The two 14 year olds behind him bowed slightly to the intimidating Jedi, bewildered by his frosty demeanour towards who they assumed to be his son.

"Hmph. Come here." He commanded. Luke and Windy looked at each other apprehensively but stepped forward. Without warning, Qui-Gon touched their foreheads, where after their eyes immediately glazed over.

"Um, master?" Obi-Wan tentatively asked. The robed Jedi turned to him, eyes blazing.

"That was poorly handled, Obi-Wan. Regardless of whether they are _children_ or not, you do _not_ simply pick strangers up and bring them to our house. Do you not understand the need for hiding, padawan?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, before glancing at his apprentice who was looked ashamedly down at his feet. He sighed. "I'm going to take these two boys home. Meanwhile _you_ will stay behind and meditate on the value of trust versus safety, young man."

Obi-Wan nodded and dejectedly watched his master lead the two boys away across the desert sands.

x-X-X-X-x

Over the next few years, Qui-Gon focussed on immersing his padawan in the grit of the real world. Trips to Mos Espa became more frequent and his master encouraged Obi-Wan to practice diplomacy and bargaining with the traders and pilots that alighted at the bustling space-port. By now Qui-Gon simply was no longer spry enough to train with his padawan; or at least not spry enough to present enough of an opposition that Obi-Wan had to work to be victorious over him. He could sense his death nearing, hanging over his head and smothering his thoughts like a tar-drenched blanket. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

By now the boy he had raised was 18, an adult on most planets, really, but Qui-Gon couldn't seem to be able to look past the child he'd held in his arms on the night he'd dropped Luke off with Owen, retreating to his new home without him. Every time his padawan grinned he could see him at six years old, proudly holding out a tooth he'd knocked loose, and each time he spotted a new species his master saw the innocence in his eyes.

But despite this, he could also see how proficient Obi-Wan had become as a negotiator; it seemed almost instance to him. Of course there was the occasional mishap here and there, but nothing the elder Jedi couldn't smooth over.

He glanced across the table at the gangly young man sitting opposite him; his ginger hair cropped short but for a long braid crawling down his shoulder (Qui-Gon couldn't make himself abandon this tradition. After all, the braid was easily hidden down the back of his apprentice's outer robe when they ventured into public). His form was trim but a little shorter than other humans his age they had encountered.

Perhaps…it was time to teach him about his future charge.

That night, Qui-Gon made Obi-Wan sit beside him on the hard, thin bunk they used as seating in the living room. He took a calming breath as his padawan sat in silence next to him, waiting patiently for his master to speak.

"Obi-Wan. I am growing older and I suspect that soon I shall die." A gasp came from the young man and the elder Jedi could sense he was about to speak. Instead he held up a weathered hand to silence the youth.

"Soon I shall die," he repeated, "and you will have to take over my mission."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What mission, master?"

"…A long time ago, before you were born, I had another padawan. His name was Anakin. I found him on this very planet when he was only nine years old. Only nine years old but so _full of potential._ His midicholian count was over 20,000; he was said to be the Chosen One, he who could bring balance to the force…"

"What happened?"

"Well nothing, not for a long time. I was his master for 17 years before he was knighted. He was a brilliant Jedi, Obi-Wan; courageous, compassionate, full of valour and honour. But he…had his dark side, too. He was prideful and he let himself get taken over by his emotions. Eventually he…fell in love."

"…Is falling in love bad, master?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "Not falling in love itself. We're all sentient beings, we cannot help it. Many Jedi who fell in love broke apart from their dear one. They knew the price of attachment. But not Anakin. He was in too deep, his heart was swamped, weakened. In secret, he had married his love. And that was the beginning of his downfall.

Perhaps we would have all come out of this none-the-worse if it had stopped there, but no. Anakin fell into the clutches of a man who is the embodiment of evil, the vessel of the Dark Side which overflows into the misery that is the Galactic Empire; Darth Sidious. He caught the young Knight and he twisted his love; he pulled and pushed and manipulated, he soaked my apprentice in the Dark Side so thoroughly he could not return. He had had visions, you see, Obi-Wan, first visions of his mother dying in agony, then of his wife, perishing in child-birth.

Both came true; but first his mother. She died at the hands of ruthless abductors. I…had made a mistake. I had thought him a Jedi as any other, but I forgot he, unlike the average initiate, was not brought to the temple as a babe. No, he had formed a primal bond of mother and child before we took him for training. I had underestimated that bond and had prevented him from rescuing his mother. He arrived too late and she died in his arms."

There was a brief moment of silence. "And his wife?"

"She…It's difficult to say. Anakin was driven further into the Sith's clutches with the grief of his mother's death. I faced him on a Sith Planet called Mustafar. On that planet, in his Dark madness he…he tried to strangle his wife. I thought I had killed him in our duel afterward, but I found out later he had survived. But Padme, she, she was so devastated by her husband's turning that she lost the will to live. Her last act was to bring into this world two babies, twins. This happened on an asteroid called Polis Massa, where I, Yoda and a man called Bail Organa had met.

We decided the children needed to be looked after; Organa took one of the twins, a girl named Leia and is raising her. I, took the boy, and brought him to his father's family."

"Who was his family?"

"Owen Lars, step-brother to Anakin Skywalker." He could feel shock radiating from his padawan.

"Y-you mean, _Luke?_ Luke is the son of a Sith Lord?" Qui-Gon nodded.

"Now do you understand, Obi-Wan? It was my mission, and it will become yours when I die, to protect Luke from his father. If Anakin, who now calls himself Darth Vader, finds him, _or_ his sister, he will _kill_ them, or worse, turn them to his side. We must _not_ let that happen."

Obi-Wan swallowed nervously. "Y-yes, master. I will protect him even if you…no longer can." He smiled at Qui-Gon hesitantly. "But let's hope that won't be necessary for a long time, yes?"

Qui-Gon smiled grimly back. "Let's hope so."

x-X-X-X-x

*_Qui-Gon was born in 92 BBY. Padme Amidala died in 19 BBY, which made Qui-Gon 73 when Obi-Wan was 1 year old. At 15, 14 years have passed, making Qui-Gon 87._


End file.
